


Core Temperature

by RadioBoy



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Fooling Around, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 09:19:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10918896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadioBoy/pseuds/RadioBoy
Summary: In which Hancock discovers Nick's defunct features.





	Core Temperature

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not much of a writer, but I felt like this ship needed more content. My laptop is dead, these were 100% written on a smallish mobile phone, so they might be formatted weird

Nick was splayed out on the waxy floor of the museum, heaving. It wasn't until he had killed the last of the attacking Raiders that Hancock noticed that his synthetic comrade wasn't following behind him.

“Nick,” he cautiously called out, trying make his voice carry as much as possible without alerting the whole floor. He heard coughing echo from a side room.

“I'm fine,” said Nick with more robotic static than he was used to hearing. Detective Valentine was sitting on the floor, propping himself up against a wall. “Don't look at me like that, Hancock, I'm not in any danger.”

“Hey, I didn't even say anything. But for the record, you're lookin a bit worse for wear, pal. And this isn't the safest place in the commonwealth if ya know what I mean” Nick laughed.

“My system doesn't run as cool as these new synths. I'm still reliant on this damn cooling fan and it gets dusty every now and then and I get overheated. I usually clean it every week, I've just been so focused on finding that kid.”

“Nickie, you and that big heart of yours is gonna get you killed one day. You better take care of yourself,” said Hancock.

The detective reached within his pockets to retrieve a screwdriver. “It won't take lo-” he said, going limp mid-sentence. Before Hancock could scream, Nick sighed. “I'm still on.” he said, still not moving. “Unfortunately, I've overheated to the point of my system automatically shutting down everything non-essential. The last time this happened to me, I had to wait until my system core cooled off long enough for me to move my arms.”

“How long did that take?” asked Hancock.

“About I don't know, 7 hours. Look, I'll be fine in this corner, I don't think I'll be found. Go on and see if you can finish this alone.”

Hancock shook his head. “Like hell I’m leaving you here by yourself.”

“I thought you'd say that,” said Nick. The ghoul just laughed. “I suppose you could try to unclog it for me, it's just brushing dust bunnies out of the way, it's not exactly advanced.” He nodded. Hancock tentatively took the fallen screwdriver and paused.

He hesitated at the synth’s coat. “Uhhh.”

The synth sounded a little embarrassed “You're going to have to take off my clothes. Not like there's anything scandalous under there.”

Hancock started with confidence and purpose at first. With the professionality of a doctor, he removed the tattered jacket. Once he managed to wrestle it from his heavy arms, he was in awe. Underneath the jacket was a clear line of dirt where the shirt had been exposed.

“Nick, do you never take off your coat? If we get out of here alive I'm hooking you up with more clothes.”

“Are you telling me you have more than one historical frock coat?”

Hancock just snorted and resumed work. Being who he was, he had undressing down to a science. He could unbutton buttons, unbuckle belts, unhinge brassieres, hell, he could even dismantle complex raider armor in a timely manner. However, the buttons on this particular shirt made him feel like a nervous virgin. Not that he would compare this to undressing a lover, that would be too awkward. He prayed that vision and touch weren't vital processes.

He had seen bare synths before, he just wondered if it looked any different. It looked about how he expected, only it was riddled with scars and ragged missing chunks like his face. An involuntary wave of sympathy washed over him, maybe not sympathy, but something like it. Before he realized what he was doing, his hands were gently exploring the scars.

“If you're looking for a screw, you won't find one.” said Nick. Hancock froze with his hands still on the apparently still fully sensing chest. “Just try to gently slide the screwdriver in between the panels, it'll pop up.” He cautiously lined up the flat head of the tool to the seam and applied pressure. It popped, but still remained attached. “It's held on by pins on each side. Just don't go trying to slide anything around under there.” The other pin released with a pop and Nick let out a sigh.

“It's not hurting you, is it?”

“Not how you're thinking. It feels more like, taking off a shoe. Only, I can feel the shoe.” He pulled off the panel and a rush of hot air hit him in the face.

“Christ, Nickie, you'd think the bullet holes would work like vents,” said Hancock. Nick laughed. He peered into the inner machinery, a little bit more than fascinated. Stumbling into such an intimate situation with the synth was causing him to feel… honored. He took a deep breath.

“Just a warning, don't go blo-” Hancock was already blowing air into the cavity, immediately regretting it as dust flew into his face and into his mouth. The mayor was soon hunched over coughing his radioactive lungs out.

Once he recovered, he turned on a flashlight and carefully tried to brush away the dust that gathered all around his components. Every now and then, he would bump into something and he could have sworn that he heard Nick make a noise, which made him feel a little bad. From a combination of the open panel and the now functioning fan, the air started to come out cooler and cooler. As he was reaching in to get another handful of dust, a green ribbon cord came unstuck.

“Oh god, I think I might have unplugged something,” said Hancock nervously. “It was a green cord.”

“I don't remember even having such a thing. It wouldn't surprise me if I have some loose wires hanging around. Can you find where it goes?”

Hancock wedged the flashlight in the crook of his neck and inspected the cord. “It's attached to a big green thing.”

“Motherboard, don't touch that. You may be able to find where it's supposed to go if you look hard enough, might as well. Maybe I have a secret laser function I don't know about.”

“I doubt that,” said Hancock, laughing. The end of the cord was a rectangular plug. There appeared to be a similarly shaped outlet towards the bottom of the torso. He didn't know what to expect when he plugged it into the socket, but it certainly wasn't Nick’s entire robot body arching back as he let out a moan. Even after regaining all movement, Nick looked like he was going to die.

“I'm so sorry, I, I had no idea I could even do that.” he said, still dumbfounded. Hancock was too shocked to even remove his hand from the synth’s chest cavity. It wasn't until the fans blew out a few puffs of hot air that he snapped out of his daze and realized what had happened. He finally leaned back and looked down, mouth agape.

“Holy shit.” Nick followed his gaze downward to see what was unmistakably an erection in Nick’s pants.

“Well, what do you know, this thing actually works.”

“I thought, well, I didn't think synths had...those,” said Hancock, knowing that it was rude to stare but couldn't stop. His eyes didn't move from the spot even when Nick pushed the panel back onto his chest, the pins locking in place with a click.

“I'm not the most realistic synth out there, but the new guys were made to blend in. I was the guinea pig for a lot of early tech for those new synths, I just didn't know they went this far.” Hancock forced himself to look away from his crotch, but then made the mistake of taking in the view of Nick Valentine leaned against the wall, bare chested and rock hard. The glow of his eyes was dimmed by his lowered eyelids. He supposed there was a reason he was called Valentine.

“Do you think it works? I mean, I imagine it won't be too easy walking into battle like this,” said Hancock, not fully comprehending what just slipped out of his mouth. Nick raised an barely existing eyebrow.

“I've been sexually functional for exactly 80 seconds and you're already laying on the moves. You're absolutely out of your mind,” to Hancock’s surprise, Nick smiled. “That's what I always liked about you, Mayor Hancock.”

Hancock was taken off guard. “Are you sure? What about the mission?”

“While I was lying here, I remembered that they've disabled the elevator from the top floor. We’re going to have to wait for someone to take it down, which won't happen until whoever the hell Blaster is comes down for a shipment,” said Nick.

“Sometimes I forget about your terminal skills, I wish I was that good with computers.”

Nick smirked. “That might change just yet.” Hancock, of all people blushed. Not that anyone could tell, but he could feel the heat of his face and that was enough to embarrass him. It took him a few seconds to decide where to start.

Hancock experimentally rubbed against the bulge with his palm, eliciting a reaction from Nick. He figured that it must be pretty sensitive since it's never been used before now. He unfastened Valentine’s pants and admired how beautiful he looked all fucked up and needy with his clothes unbuttoned and pulled to the side, cock threatening to pop out from under the taut fabric. Hancock resisted touching it. Instead, he jostled the fabric until it sprung out on its own.

Deciding that he was going to avoid touching it altogether, he steadied himself with his arms slung over the synth’s thighs and licked a trail from the base to the tip, cock throbbing with every noise that came from the detective. He made only the slightest of movements and tortured him until he was a writhing panting mess. The moans became more and more unintelligible, some degrading completely into static. Suddenly, it seemed as if he might cum. Hancock stopped immediately and watched him squirm.

“F-fuck Hancock, I was so close,” said Nick, barely catching his breath. “I haven't had it in so long, please.” Hancock just smiled and teasingly kissed the head of his synthetic member before quickly plunging the whole thing in his mouth all the way to the hilt. Nick let out the most pathetic robotic whimper as he began relentlessly engulfing him and bobbing his head, tongue teasing the sensitive seams and scars. Hancock felt Nick’s bare robotic hand on his head before he began thrusting into his mouth. He made the most explosive, undignified groan as he came to a halt.

 

 


End file.
